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THE  LIBRAfir 
OF  THE 
VNIVERilTr  9f  ltl!li|f| 





ILLUSTRATIONS 


TO 

GOETHE'S  FAUST 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIVE   SELECTIONS  FROM  THE    TEXT  OF 
BAYARD   TAYLOR'S  TRANSLATLON 


'Boston 

COPyniGHTED    AND    PUBLISHED  BT 

ESTES    AND  LAURIAT 
1877 


0^  EtYr 


I  N  T  II  O  D  U  C  T  I  O  N. 


The  story  of  the  Devil  and  Dr.  Fanstiis,  told  many  times,  received  at  tlie  hand  of  Goethe  such 
masterly  treatment  that  it  at  once  took  high  rank  as  one  of  the  most  original  productions  of  the 
German  drama.  The  celebrated  outlines  of  Eetzsch  have  given  the  very  essence  of  the  leading 
occm-rences  in  this  tragedy.  In  them  we  trace  the  vivid  thoughts  that  filled  the  mind  of  the  great 
German  poet,  when  in  his  inimitable  production  he  portrayed  the  various  sentiments  and  passions  that 
animate  the  human  breast.  As  we  turn  over  the  following  pages,  we  cannot  but  be  astonished  at  the 
facility  with  which  the  artist  has  grasped  the  outward  expression  of  the  passions,  and  transferred  to  his 
paper,  with  a  delicacy  and  accuracy  of  touch,  the  inmost  thoughts  of  the  distinguished  poet. 

The  translation  has  been  compiled  from  the  work  of  one  of  our  own  American  poets.  Bayard 
Taylor,  to  whose  kindness  and  that  of  his  publishers,  Messrs.  J.  R.  Osgood  &  Co.,  we  are  indebted 
for  our  extracts.  It  does  not  pretend  to  contain  a  full  translation  of  Goethe's  work :  such  is  not  the 
object  of  this  volume ;  but  the  abstracts  faithfully  portray  the  subject-matter  of  the  sketches,  and  will 
serve  as  a  companion  and  assistant  to  the  lover  of  Faust,  as  he  turns  over  the  sketches  in  outline, 
drawn  to  illustrate  the  master-piece  of  Goethe. 


L^^  :[']K.(:«ij:ir';('TioM 


FAUST  AND 

FAUST. 

Seest  thou  tlie  l)lack  dog  coursing  there,  through 
corn  and  stubble  ? 

WAGNER. 

Long  shice  ;  yet  deemed  him  not  important  in 
the  least. 

FAUST. 

Inspect  liim  close :  for  what  tak'st  thou  the 
beast  ? 

WAGNER. 

Why,  for  a  poodle  who  has  lost  his  master, 
And  scents  about,  his  track  to  find. 

FAUST. 

Seest  thou  the  spiral  circles,  narrowing  faster, 
Which  he,  approaching,  round  us  seems  to  wind  ? 
A  streaming  trail  of  fire,  if  I  see  rightly, 
Follows  his  path  of  mystery. 

WAGNER. 

It  may  be  that  your  eyes  deceive  you  slightly : 
Naught  but  a  plain  black  poodle  do  I  see. 


FAUST. 

It  seems  to  me  that  with  enchanted  cunnins; 
It  snares  our  feet,  some  future  chain  to  bind. 


NER.  —  Plate  2. 


WAGXER. 

I  see  him  timidly,  in  doubt,  around  us  running, 
Since,  in  his  master's  stead,  two  strangers  doth 
he  find. 

FAUST. 

The  circle  narrows  :  he  is  near ! 

WAGNER. 

A  dog  thou  seest,  and  not  a  phantom,  here  ! 
Behold  him  stop  ;  —  upon  his  belly  crawl  ;  — 
His  tail  set  wagging  :  canine  habits,  all ! 

FAUST. 

Come,  follow  us  !    Come  here,  at  least ! 

WAGNER. 

'Tis  the  ab.surdest,  drollest  beast. 
Stand  still,  and  you  will  see  him  wait ; 
Address  him,  and  he  gambols  straight ; 
If  something 's  lost,  he  '11  quickly  bring  it,  — 
Your  cane,  if  in  the  stream  you  fling  it. 

FAUST. 

No  doubt  you  're  right :  no  trace  of  mind,  I  own, 
Is  in  the  beast :  I  see  but  drill  alone. 

WAGNER. 

The  dog,  when  he 's  well  educated, 

Is  by  the  wisest  tolerated. 

Yes,  he  deserves  your  favor  thoroughly,  — 

The  clever  scholar  of  the  students,  he  ! 


r-j. 


lin^raved  by  Hearv  Mosee 

FAXTiST    AW  ID)    WAGSTKR  , 


FAUST  IN  HIS  STUDY.  — P/a;;e  3. 


—  If  I  must  share  my  chamber  with  thee, 

Poodle,  stop  that  howling,  prithee ! 

Cease  to  l^ark  and  bellow ! 

Such  a  noisy  disturbing  fellow 

I  '11  no  lon2:er  suffer  near  me. 

One  of  us,  —  dost  hear  me  !  — 

Must  leave,  I  fear  me. 

No  longer  guest-right  I  bestow  : 

The  door  is  open,  art  free  to  go. 

But  what  do  I  see  in  the  creature  ? 

Is  that  in  the  course  of  nature  ? 


Is't  actual  fact  ?  or  Fancy's  shows  ? 

How  long  and  broad  my  poodle  grows  ! 

He  rises  mightily  : 

A  canine  form  that  cannot  be  ! 

What  a  spectre  I  've  harbored  thus ! 

He  resembles  a  hippopotamus, 

With  fiery  eyes,  teeth  terrible  to  see  : 

0,  now  am  I  sure  of  thee  ! 

For  all  of  thy  half-hellish  brood 

The  Key  of  Solomon  is  good. 


PL.  .1 


FAUST  MAKES  OVER  HIS  SOUL 


TO  MEPHTSTOPHELES.  —  P/«^e  4. 


FAUST. 

What  wilt  from  me,  Base  Spirit,  say  ? 
Brass,  marble,  parchment,  paper,  clay  ? 
The  terms  with  graver,  quill,  or  chisel,  stated  ? 
I  freely  leave  the  choice  to  thee. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Why  heat  thyself,  thus  instiintly, 
With  eloquence  exaggerated  ? 
Each  leaf  for  such  a  pact  is  good ; 
And  to  subscribe  thy  name  thou  'It  take  a  drop 
of  blood. 

FAUST. 

If  thou  therewith  art  fully  satisfied, 
So  let  us  by  the  farce  abide. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Blood  is  a  juice  of  rarest  quality. 

FAUST. 

Fear  not  that  I  this  pact  shall  seek  to  sever  ! 
The  promise  that  I  make  to  thee 
Is  just  the  sum  of  my  endeavor. 


I  have  myself  inflated  all  too  high  : 

My  proper  place  is  thy  estate. 

The  Mighty  Spirit  deigns  me  no  reply, 

And  Nature  shuts  on  me  her  gate. 

The  thread  of  Thought  at  last  is  broken, 

And  knowledge  brings  disgust  unspoken. 

Let  us  the  sensual  deeps  exjDlore, 

To  quench  the  fervors  of  glowing  passion ; 

Let  every  marvel  take  form  and  fashion, 

Through  the  impervious  veil  it  wore  ! 

Plunge  we  in  Time's  tumultuous  dance, 

In  the  rush  and  roll  of  Circumstance  ! 

Then  may  delight  and  distress, 

And  worry  and  success, 

Alternately  follow,  as  best  they  can  : 

Restless  activity  proves  the  man. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

For  you  no  bound,  no  term,  is  set. 
Whether  you  everywhere  be  trying, 
Or  snatch  a  rapid  bliss  in  flying. 
May  it  agree  with  you,  what  you  get ! 
Only  fall  to,  and  show  no  timid  balking. 


FAUST  AND 


MEPiriSTOPIIELES. 

I  fain  ^vould  drink  with  you,  my  glass  to  Free- 
dom clinking, 

If  t'svere  a  better  wine  that  here  I  see  you 
drinking. 

SIEBEL. 

Don't  let  us  hear  that  speech  again  ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Did  I  not  fear  the  landlord  might  complain, 
I 'd  treat  these  worthy  guests,  with  pleasure, 
To  some  from  out  our  cellar's  treasure. 

SIEBEL. 

Just  treat,  and  let  the  landlord  me  arraign ! 

FKOSCH. 

And  if  the  wine  be  good,  our  praises  shall  be 
ample. 

But  do  not  give  too  very  small  a  sample ; 

For,  if  its  quality  I  decide, 

With  a  good  mouthful  I  must  be  supplied. 

ALTMAYER. 

They  're  from  the  Ehine  :  I  guessed  as  much, 
before, 

MEPHISTOPHELES.  .  t 

Bring  me  a  gimlet  here. 

BRANDER. 

What  shall  therewith  be  done  ? 

You 've  not  the  casks  already  at  the  door  ? 

ALTMAYER. 

Yonder,  within  the  landlord's  box  of  tools,  there 's 
one  ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Now  give  me  of  your  taste  some  intimation. 


IN  THE  TAVERN.  —  Plate  5. 


FROSCH. 

How  do  you  mean  ?  Have  you  so  many  kinds  ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

The  choice  is  free  :  make  up  your  minds. 

ALTMAYER. 

Aha !  you  lick  your  chops,  from  sheer  anticipa- 
tion. 

FROSCH. 

Good !  if  I  have  the  choice,  so  let  the  wine  be 
Rhenish ! 

Our  fatherland  can  best  the  sparkling  cup  re- 
plenish. 

MEPHISTOPHELES    {"--M  singular  gestures)  . 

Grapes  the  vine-stem  bears. 

Horns  the  he-goat  wears  ;  ' 

The  grapes  are  juicy,  the  vines  are  wood, — 

The  wooden  table  gives  wine  as  good ! 

Into  the  depths  of  Nature  peer,  — 

Onl}^  believe,  there 's  a  miracle  here  ! 

Now  draw  the  stoppers  and  drink  your  fill ! 

ALL. 

0  beautiful  fountain  that  flows  at  will ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

But  have  a  care  that  you  nothing  spiU. 

ALL. 

As  t'were  five  hundred  hogs  we  feel, 
So  cannabalic  jolly  ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

See,  now,  the  race  is  happy  —  it  is  free  ! 

FAUST. 

To  leave  them  is  my  inclination. 


FAUST  AND   MEPBLIST-OFHlEILEa  IKT  THE  TAVTEBIT. 


THE  LISRAIir 
OF  THE 


FAUST  AND  MEPHISTOPHELES  IN  THE  WITCHES'  CkYY..  — Plate  6. 


FAUST  (uho  has  been  standing  he/ore  a  mirror,  now  approachiv/j  and 
now  retreating  from  it). 

What  do  I  see  ?  What  heavenly  form  revealed 
Shows  through  the  glass  from  Magic's  fair  do- 
minions ! 

0  lend  me,  Love,  the  swiftest  of  thy  pinions, 
And  bear  me  to  her  beauteous  field  ! 
Ah,  if  I  leave  this  spot  with  fond  designing, 
If  I  attempt  to  venture  near. 
Dim,  as  through  gathering  mist,  her  charms 
appear ! 

A  woman's  form,  in  beauty  shining ! 
Can  woman,  then,  so  lovely  be  ? 


And  must  I  find  her  body,  there  reclining, 
Of  all  the  heavens  the  bright  epitome  ? 
Can  Earth  with  such  a  thing  be  mated  ? 

MEPniSTOPnELES. 

Why,  surely,  if  a  God  first  plagues  Himself  six 
days, 

Then  self  contented,  Bravo  !  says, 

Must  something  clever  be  created. 

This  time  thine  eyes  be  satiate  : 

I  '11  yet  detect  thy  sweetheart  and  ensnare  her, 

And  blest  is  he,  who  has  the  lucky  fate. 

Some  day,  as  bridegroom,  home  to  bear  her. 


THE  WITCH  GIVES  FAUST 


THE  WITCH. 

Wherein,  Sirs,  can  I  be  of  use  ? 

MEPIIISTOPIIELES. 

Give  us  a  goljlet  of  the  well-known  juice  ! 
But,  I  must  beg  you,  of  the  oldest  beverage ; 
The  years  a  double  strength  produce. 

THE  wiTcn. 
With  all  my  heart !  Now,  here 's  a  bottle, 
Wherefrom,  sometimes,  I  wet  my  throttle, 
Which,  also,  not  the  slightest,  stinks ; 
And  willingly  a  glass  I'll  fill  him. 

[  Whisperiiir/.'^ 

Yet,  if  tliis  man  without  due  preparation  drinks. 
As  well  thou  know'st,  within  an  hour  'twill 
kill  him. 

MEPniSTOPnELES. 

He  is  a  friend  of  mine,  with  whom  it  will  agree. 
And  he  deserves  thy  kitchen's  best  potation : 
Come,  draw  thy  circle,  speak  thine  adjuration, 
And  fill  thy  goblet  full  and  free ! 

FAUST   {to  MEPHISTOPHELES). 

Now  what  shall  come  of  this  ?  the  creatures  antic. 
The  crazy  stuff,  the  gestures  frantic,  — 


MAGIC  POTION.  — P/«^e  7. 


All  the  repulsive  cheats  I  view,  — 
Are  known  to  me,  and  hated,  too. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

0  nonsense  !  That 's  a  thing  for  laughter  ; 
Don't  be  so  terribly  severe  ! 
She  juggles  you  as  doctor  now,  that,  after. 
The  beverage  may  work  the  proper  cheer. 

[  The  Witch  ivilh  rniiny  ceremonies  ponrs  the  drink  into  a  cup 
Faust  sets  it  to  his  Upa,  a  liyht  flame  arisesl\ 

Down  with  it  quickly  !    Drain  it  off ! 
'Twill  warm  thy  heart  with  new  desire  : 
Art  with  the  Devil  hand  and  glove, 
And  wilt  thou  be  afraid  of  fire  ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

And  now,  away !    Thou  dar'st  not  rest. 

FAUST. 

One  rapid  glance  within  the  mirror  give  me 
How  beautiful  that  woman  form  ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 

No,  no  !  The  paragon  of  all,  believe  me, 
Thou  soon  shalt  see  alive  and  warm. 


THE  UBfil^W 
Of  THE 


FAUST  SEES  MARGARET  FOR  THE  FIRST  TIME.  — PZa^e  8. 


The  Street. 
FAUST.    (Marijaret  passlw/  by.) 

Fair  lady,  let  me  not  offend  you  : 
That  arm  and  escort  I  would  lend  you ! 

MAEGARET. 

I 'm  neither  lady,  neither  fair, 

And  home  I  can  go  Avithout  j^our  care. 

•  FATTST. 

By  Heaven,  the  girl  is  wondrous  fair. 
Of  all  I 've  seen,  beyond  compare  ! 


So  sweetly  virtuous  and  pure. 
And  yet  a  httle  pert,  be  sure  ! 
The  lips  so  red,  the  cheek's  clear  dawn, 
I  '11  not  forget  while  the  world  rolls  on 
How  she  cast  down  her  timid  eyes, 
Deep  in  my  heart  imprinted  lies  ; 
How  short  and  sharp  of  speech  was  she 
Why,  'twas  a  real  ecstasy  ! 


JF'AlfxiT  SjEJKS  MAIRGAEET  FOB   THE   iFIKxIT   TITjIE  , 


TNE  UBRARY 
OF  THE 
WWWttTlf  If 


MARGARET  IN  HER  CHAMBER.  — Pifa^e 


Evening.  : 
MARGAEET. 

I'd  sometliing  give,  could  I  but  say 

Who  was  that  gentleman,  to-day. 

Surely  a  gallant  man  was  he, 

And  of  a  noble  family  ; 

So  much  could  I  in  his  face  behold,  — 

And  he  wouldn't,  else,  have  been  so  bold. 


m  UBRMY 
OF  THE 


I 


FAUST  INTRODUCED  INTO  MARGARET'S  CHAMBER  BY  MEPHISTOPHELES.  —  P/a^e  10. 


FAUST.    (H<i  throws  himself  into  an  arm-chair  near  the  bed.) 

Receive  me !  thou,  that  in  thine  open  arms 
Departed  joy  and  pain  wert  wont  to  gather  ! 
How  oft  the  children,  with  their  ruddy  charms, 
Hung  here,  around  this  throne,  where  sat  the 
father ! 

Perchance  my  love,  amid  the  girlish  band, 
Grateful  for  gifts  the  Holy  Christmas  gave  her. 
Here  meekly  kissed  the  grandsire's  withered 
hand. 


And  here  ! 

[ITe  lifts  one  of  the  hed-ciuiains.) 

What  sweetest  thriU  is  in  my  blood  ! 
Here  could  I  spend  whole  hours,  delaying  : 
Here  Nature  shaped,  as  if  in  sportive  playing, 
The  angel  blossom  from  the  bud. 
And  I  ?    What  drew  me  here  with  power  ? 
How  deeply  am  I  moved,  this  hour  ! 
What  seek  I  ?    Why  so  full  my  heart  and  sore  ? 
Miserable  Faust !  I  know  thee  now  no  more. 


OF  THE 


MARGARET  ADMIRING  THE  JEWELS  LEFT  BY  MEPHISTOPHELES.  —  PZa^e  11. 


MARGARET. 

How  comes  that  lovely  casket  here  to  me  ? 

I  locked  the  press,  most  certainly. 

'Tis  truly  wonderful !    What  can  within  it  be  ? 

Perhaps  'twas  brought  by  some  one  as  a  pawn. 

And  mother  gave  a  loan  thereon  ? 

And  here  there  hangs  a  key  to  fit, 


I  have  a  mind  to  open  it. 

What  is  that  ?    God  in  Heaven  !  whence  came 

Such  things  ?    Never  beheld  I  aught  so  fair  ! 

Rich  ornaments,  such  as  a  noble  dame 

On  highest  holidays  might  wear ! 

How  would  the  pearl-chain  suit  my  hair  ? 

Ah  !  who  may  all  this  splendor  own  ? 


.Mt:K'r  -Aiusriiiii rBf«i  t:iik  .'!;('VH"I'.ii!.,w  iinMi'T  nv  r:Mi,s'i''Q'i"irn';i,'i';,3. 


IRE  LIBRARY 
OF  THE 


MARGARET  SHOWS  HER  TREASURES  TO  MARTHA.  —  P/a^e  12. 


MAETHA. 

Margaret !  what 's  happened  thee  ? 

MARGARET. 

I  scarce  can  stand,  my  knees  are  trembling  ! 
I  find  the  box,  the  first  resembhng 
Within  my  press  !    Of  ebony,  — 
And  things  all  splendid  to  behold, 
And  richer  far  than  were  the  old. 

MARTHA.  • 

You  mustn't  tell  it  to  your  mother ! 
'Twould  go  to  the  priest,  as  did  the  other. 

MARGARET. 

Ah,  look  and  see,  just  look  and  see  ! 

MARTHA. 

O,  what  a  blessed  luck  for  thee  ! 


MARGARET. 

But  ah !  in  the  streets  I  dare  not  bear  them. 
Nor  in  the  church  be  seen  to  wear  them. 

MARTHA. 

Yet  thou  canst  often  this  way  wander, 
And  secretly  the  jewels  don. 
Walk  up  and  down  an  hour,  before  the  mirror 
yonder : 

We  '11  have  our  private  joy  thereon. 

And  then  a  chance  will  come,  —  a  holiday,  — 

When  j)iece  by  piece,  can  one  the  things  abroad 
display,  — 

A  chain  at  first,  then  other  ornament ; 

Thy  mother  will  not  see,  and  stories  we  '11  in- 
vent. 


MEPHISTOPHELES  INFORMS  MARTHA  OF  HER  HUSBAND'S  DEATH.  — PZa^e  13. 


MARTHA. 

What  is  your  business  ?  I  would  fain  — 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

I  would  I  had  a  more  cheerful  strain ! 

Take  not  unkindly  its  repeating : 

Your  husband 's  dead,  and  sends  a  greeting. 

•-  MAETHA. 

Is  dead  ?    Alas,  that  heart  so  true  ! 
My  husband  dead  !    Let  me  die,  too  ! 

MARGARET. 

Ah,  dearest  dame,  let  not  your  courage  fail ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES.  , 

Hear  me  relate  the  mournful  tale  ! 

In  Padua  buried  ;  he  is  lying 
Beside  the  good  Saint  Antony, 


Within  a  grave  well  consecrated, 
For  cool,  eternal  rest  created. 

MARTHA. 

He  gave  you  further  no  commission  ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Yes,  one  of  weight,  with  many  sighs : 

Three  hundred  masses  buy,  to  save  him  from 

.  perdition ! 
My  hands  are  empty,  otherwise  — 

MARTHA. 

What,  not  a  pocket-piece  ?  no  jewelry  ? 

What  every  journeyman  within  his  wallet  spares, 

And  as  a  token  with  him  bears. 

And  rather  starves  or  begs,  than  loses  ? 


l-'X, .  I 


■IMnEPHISTCJlPTlffiJLEN    'I N IK'lsElMI^'       ,\1-;T"1 3  A    '!W    TlVlli    Ifir'N BAWDS  BTBATH'. 


OF  THE 


THE  DECISION  OF  THE  FLOWER.  —  PZa^e  14. 


MAnGAKET  plucks  a  star-flower,  and  pulls  off  the  leaves,  one  nfler  the  other. 
FAUST. 

Shall  that  a  nosegay  be  ?  ■ 

MAKGARET.  ■.  "    "  ■ 

No,  it  is  just  in  play.  ' 

FAUST.  ■  ;  ' 

How? 

MARGARET. 

Go  !  you  '11  laugh  at  me. 

(She  pulls  off  the  leaves  and  murmurs.) 
■  FAUST.  ;  \ 

What  murraurest  thou  ?  ;  .  . ;  , 


MARGARET  {half  aloud). 

He  loves  me  —  loves  me  not. 

■      -  FAUST. 

Thou  sweet,  angelic  soul ! 

MARGARET. 

Loves  me  —  not  —  loves  me  —  not. 

(Pluclcmg  the  last  leaf,  she  cries  tvith  frank  delight :) 

He  loves  me ! 

FAUST. 

Yes,  child  ;  and  let  this  blossom^word 

For  thee  be  sj)eech  divine.    He  loves  thee : 

Ah,  knowst  thou  what  it  means  ?    He  loves  thee. 


OF  THE 


MARGARET  PUTS  FAUST  IN  THE  SUMMER-HOUSE.  —  Pfoie  15. 


MAKGARET. 

He  comes. 

FAUST. 

Ah.  rogue  !  a  tease  thou  art : 
I  have  thee ! 

(He  kisses  her.) 
MARGARET  {rlaspinr;  him  and  returning  the  kiss). 

Deai^est  man !  I  love  thee  from  ray  heart. 

(MlCI'lIISTOPHELES  knOcks.) 

FAUST. 

Who 's  there  ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

A  friend  ! 

FAUST. 

A  beast ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

'Tis  time  to  separate. 

MARTHA. 

Yes,  sir,  'tis  late. 

FAUST. 

May  I  not.  then,  upon  you  wait? 


MARGARET. 

My  mother  would  —  Farewell. 

FAUST. 

Ah,  can  I  not  remain  ? 
Farewell ! 

MARTHA. 

Adieu ! 

MARGARET. 

And  soon  to  meet  again  ! 

{Exeunt  MEPHISTOPHELES  and  Faust.) 
MARGARET. 

Dear  God  !    However  is  it,  such 
A  man  can  think  and  know  so  much  ? 
I  stand  ashamed  and  in  amaze, 
And  answer  "  Yes  "  to  all  he  says, 
A  poor  unknowing  child  !  and  he 
I  can't  think  what  he  finds  in  me  ! 


THE  IIB«AW 
OF  THE 


MARGARET  DISCONSOLATE  AT  HER  SPINNING-WHEEL.  —  P?a^e  16. 


Mabgaret's  Room. 
MAEGAEET  {at  the  spinning-wheel  alone). 

My  peace  is  gone, 
My  heart  is  sore  : 
I  never  shall  find  it,  — 
Ah,  nevermore. ! 

Save  I  have  him  near, 
The  grave  is  here  ; 
The  world  is  gall 
And  bitterness  all. 

My  poor  weak  head 
Is  racked  and  crazed  ;       •  ' 
My  thought  is  lost,  • 
My  senses  mazed. 

To  see  him,  him  only, 
At  the  pane  I  sit ; 
To  meet  him,  him  only, 
The  house  I  quit. 


His  lofty  gait. 

His  noble  size, 

The  smile  of  his  mouth, 

The  power  of  his  eyes. 

And  the  magic  flow 
Of  his  talk,  the  bliss 
In  the  clasp  of  his  hand. 
And,  ah,  his  kiss! 

My  peace  is  gone. 
My  heart  is  sore  ; 
I  never  shall  find  it,  — 
Ah,  nevermore ! 

My  bosom  yearns 
For  him  alone : 
Ah,  dared  I  clasp  him 
And  hold  and  own  ! 

And  kiss  his  mouth. 
To  heart's  desire. 
And  on  his  kisses 
At  last  expire ! 


MAKGtARET-  DiaCOWSOLATE   AT   HEB    SlPINMINl.^  WHEEL,. 


TNE  LIBRARY 
Of  TNE 
QNtn  RDTY  If  IkMMM 


9mnuvt  Of  ftmm 


MARGARET  SUPPLICATING  THE  MATER  DOLOROSA. —  PZa^e  17. 


MAKGAEET. 

Incline,  0  Maiden, 
Thou  sorrow-laden, 

Thy  gracious  countenance  upon  my  pain  ! 

The  sword  Thy  heart  in 
With  anguish  smarting, 
Thou  lookest  up  to  where  Thy  Son  is  slain ! 

Thou  see'st  the  Father ; 

Thy  sad  sighs  gather. 

And  bear  aloft  Thy  sorrow  and  His  pain ! 

Ah,  past  guessing. 
Beyond  expressing, 

The  pangs  that  wring  my  flesh  and  bone  ! 
Why  this  anxious  heart  so  burneth. 
Why  it  trembleth,  why  it  yearneth, 
Know'st  Thou,  and  Thou  alone  ! 


Where'er  I  go,  what  sorrow, 

What  woe,  what  woe  and  sorrow, 

Within  my  bosom  ache  ! 

Alone,  and  ah,  unsleeping, 

I 'm  weeping,  weeping,  weeping,  — 

The  heart  within  me  breaks. 

The  pots  before  my  window, 
Alas!  my  tears  did  wet. 
As  in  the  early  morning, 
For  thee  these  flowers  I  set. 

Within  my  lonely  chamber 
The  morning  sun  shone  red ; 
I  sat  in  utter  sorrow. 
Already  on  my  bed. 

Help  !  rescue  me  from  death  and  stain  ! 

0  Maiden ! 

Thou  sorrow-laden, 

Incline  Thy  countenance  upon  my  pain  ! 


THE  imfn 

Of  fHt  


THE  EVIL  SPIRIT  WHISPERS  DESPAIR  TO  MARGARET  WHILE  AT  MASS.  — Pfo^e  18. 


EVIL  SPIKIT. 

How  otherwise  was  it,  Margaret, 

When  thou,  still  innocent, 

Here  to  the  altar  cam'st. 

And  from  the  worn  and  fingered  book 

Thy  prayers  did'st  prattle, 

Half  sport  of  childhood. 

Half  God  within  thee  ! 

Maro;aret ! 

Where  tends  thy  thought  ? 


Within  thy  bosom 
What  hidden  crime  ? 

Pray'st  thou  for  mercy  on  thy  mother's  soul 
That  fell  asleep  to  long,  long  torment,  and 

through  thee  ? 
Upon  thy  threshold  whose  the  blood, 
And  stirreth  not  and  quickens 
Something  beneath  thy  heart. 
Thy  life  disquieting 
With  most  foreboding  presence  ? 


THE  liVVTL   SPIKIT  lYXIISPEKS  BE  M'AIIK  '  TO    :\:IA:(^^:^.\K  .ET  'n'^riL  K  .\T  vi.vss 


VALENTINE  FIGHTS 


VALENTINE  {comes forward). 

Whom  wilt  thou  lure  ?    God's  element ! 
Rat-catching  piper,  thou  !  —  perdition  ! 
To  the  Devil  first  the  instrument ! 
To  the  Devil,  then,  the  curst  musician ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

The  cither 's  smashed  !    For  nothing  more  'tis 
fitting. 

VALENTINE. 

There 's  yet  a  skull  I  must  be  splitting. 

MEPHISTOPHELES  {tO  FAUST ). 

Sir  Doctor,  don't  retreat,  I  pray  ! 
Stand  by,  —  I  '11  lend  if  you  '11  but  tarry  ; 
Out  with  your  spit,  without  delay  ! 
You 've  but  to  lunge,  and  I  will  parry. 

VALENTINE.  V 

Then  parry  that ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Why  not  ?  'tis  light. 


FAUST.  — PZa^e  19. 


VALENTINE. 

That,  too. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Of  course. 

VALENTINE. 

I  think  the  Devil  must  fight ! 

How  is  it,  then  ?  my  hand 's  already  lame. 

MEPHISTOPHELES  {tO  FAUST). 

Thrust  home. 

VALENTINE 

0  God! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Now  is  the  lubber  tame ! 
But  come  away !    'Tis  time  for  us  to  fly 
For  there  arises  now  a  murderous  cry. 
With  the  police  'twere  easy  to  compound  it, 
But  here  the  penal  court  will  sift  and  sound  it. 


THE  LIBflARY 

OF  THE   

UltViilSITY  tf 


VALENTINE,  DYING,  REPEOACHES  MARGARET.  —  P/«^e  20. 


VALENTINE. 

I 'm  dying.    That  is  quickly  said, 
And  quicker  yet  'tis  done. 
Why  howl,  you  women  there  ?  Instead, 
Come  here  and  listen,  every  one. 

In  this  game  let  our  Lord  God  be. 
What 's  done 's  already  done.  Alas, 
What  follows,  it  must  come  to  pass. 
When  Shame  is  born  and  first  appears, 
She  is  in  secret  brought  to  lii^ht, 
And  then  they  draw  the  veil  of  night 
Over  her  head  and  ears ; 


Her  life,  in  fact,  they  're  loath  to  spare  her. 

But  let  her  growth  and  strength  display. 

She  walks  abroad  unveiled  by  day. 

Yet  is  not  grown  a  whit  the  fairer,  — 

The  uglier  she  is  to  sight, 

The  more  she  seeks  the  day's  broad  light. 

The  time  I  verily  can  discern 

When  all  the  honest  folk  will  turn 

From  thee,  thou  jade  !  and  seek  protection 

As  from  a  corpse  that  breeds  infection  : 

Thy  guilty  heart  shall  then  dismay  thee, 

When  they  but  look  thee  in  the  face. 


THE  umfn 

Of  THE 


FAUST  AND  MEPHISTOPHELES  ASCEND  THE  BROCKEN.  —  P/ate  21. 


FArST. 

So  long  as  in  my  legs  I  feel  the  fresh  existence, 
This  knotted  staff  suffices  me. 
What  need  to  shorten  so  the  way  ? 
Along  this  labyrinth  of  vales  to  wander, 
Then  climb  the  rocky  ramparts  yonder, 
Wherefrom  the  fountain  flings  eternal  spray, 
The  spring-time  stirs  within  the  fragrant  birches 
And  even  the  fir-tree  feels  it  now : 
Should  then  our  limbs  escape  its  gentle  scratches  ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

I  notice  no  such  thing,  I  vow  ! 
'Tis  winter  still  within  my  body : 


Upon  my  path,  T  wish  for  frost  and  snow. 
How  sadly  rises,  incomplete  and  ruddy. 
The  moon's  lone  disk,  with  its  belated  glow  ; 
And  lights  so  dimly,  that,  as  one  advances, 
At  every  step  one  strikes  a  rock  or  tree  I 
Let  us  then  use  a  Jack-o'-lantern's  glances,  — 
I  see  one  yonder  burning  merrily. 
Ho,  there !  my  friend !  I  '11  levy  thine  atten- 
dance : 

Why  waste  so  vainly  thy  resplendance  ? 
Be  kind  enough  to  light  us  up  the  steep  ! 


THE  WITCHES' 


EEVEL.— P?a^e  22. 


FAUST. 

Then  saw  I  — 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

What  ? 

FAU&T. 

Mephisto,  see'st  thou  there, 
Alone  and  far,  a  girl  most  pale  and  fair  ? 
She  falters  on,  her  way  scarce  knowing, 
As  if  with  fettered  feet  that  stay  her  going. 


I  must  confess,  it  seems  to  me 

As  if  my  kindly  Margaret  were  she. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Let  the  thing  be  !    All  thence  have  evil  drawn  : 

It  is  a  magic  shape,  a  lifeless  eidolon. 

Such  to  encounter  is  not  good  : 

Their  blank,  set  stare  benumbs  the  human  blood  ; 

And  one  is  almost  turned  to  stone,  — 

Medusa's  tale  to  thee  is  known. 


T  H  F,     W!I  T  '( VI K  3     E  IE  V  E  IL  o 


OF  m 


FAUST  HEARS  THAT  MARGAEET  IS  IN  PRISON. —  P/fl^e  23. 


FAUST. 

In  misery !  In  despair  !  Long  wretcheclly 
astray  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  now  impris- 
oned. That  gracious,  ill-starred  creature  shut 
in  a  dungeon  as  a  criminal,  and  given  up  to 
fearful  torments !  To  this  has  it  come !  to 
this  !  —  Treacherous,  contemptible  spirit,  and 
thou  hast  concealed  it  from  me  !  —  Stand,  then, 
—  stand  !  Roll  the  devilish  eyes  wrathfully 
in  thy  head !  Stand,  and  defy  me  with  thine 
intoleralile  presence !  Imprisoned !  In  irretriev- 
able misery !  Delivered  up  to  evil  spirits,  and 
to  condemning,  unfeeling  Man !  And  thou  hast 
lulled  me,  meanwdiile,  with  the  most  insipid 
dissipations ;  hast  concealed  from  me  her  in- 
creasing wretchedness,  and  suffered  her  to  go 
helplessly  to  ruin  ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

She  is  not  the  first.  ■ 


FAUST. 

Dog  !  Abominable  monster  !  Transform  him, 
thou  Infinite  Spirit !  transform  the  reptile  again 
into  his  dog-shape,  in  which  it  pleased  him  often 
at  night  to  scamper  on  before  me,  to  roll  him- 
self at  the  feet  of  the  unsuspecting  Avanderer, 
and  hang  upon  his  shoulders,  when  he  fell. 
Transform  him  "again  into  his  favorite  likeness, 
that  he  may  crawl  upon  his  belly  in  the  dust 
before  me,  —  that  I  may  trample  him,  the  out- 
lawed, under  foot !  Not  the  first!  0,  woe  !  woe 
which  no  human  soul  can  grasp,  that  more  than 
one  being  should  sink  into  the  depths  of  this 
misery,  —  that  the  first,  in  its  writhing  death- 
agony,  under  the  eyes  of  the  Eternal  Forgiver, 
did  not  expiate  the  guilt  of  all  others  ?  The 
misery  of  this  single  one  pierces  to  the  very 
marrow  of  my  life ;  and  thou  art  calmly  grin- 
ning at  the  fate  of  thousands ! 


FAXr^T    HEAKS     THAT    .MAIKGAJRET    IS    LW  PKIs^^OISf. 


m  umvt 

OF  THE 

umvf  fisiTY  If  mm 


MEPHISTOPHELES  AND  FAUST  PASS  THE  PLACE  OF  EXECUTION.  —  Pto^e  24. 


FAUST. 

What  weave  thej  there  round  the  raven-stone  ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES . 

I  know  not  what  they  are  brewing  and  doing. 

FAUST. 

Soaring  up,  sweeping  down,  bowing  and  bending, 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 

A  witches'  guild. 

FAUST. 

They  scatter,  devote  and  doom ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

On !    On ! 


THE  lIBflAflY 
OF  rNE 
UMViftilTY  If  IfcfeMWI 


FAUST  ENTERS  THE  PRISON  WHERE  MARGARET  l^.  — Plate  25. 


FAUST  ('I'ilh  a  hunch  of  Iceys  and  a  lamp  before  an  iron  door). 

A  shudder,  long  unfelt,  comes  o'er  me  ; 

Mankind's  collected  woe  o'erwhelms  me,  here. 

She  dwells  within  the  dark,  damp  walls  before  me, 

And  all  her  crime  Avas  a  delusion  dear ! 

What !    I  delay  to  free  her  ? 

I  dread,  once  again  to  see  her  ? 

On.    My  shrinking  but  lingers  Death  more  near. 

(He  grasps  the  lock.     The  sound  of  sinijing  is  heard  inside.) 

My  mother,  the  harlot, 
Who  put  me  to  death; 


My  father,  the  varlet 
Who  eaten  me  hath  ! 
Little  sister,  so  good, 
Laid  my  hones  in  the  wood, 
In  the  damf)  moss  and  clay  : 
Then  was  la  heautifid  bird  o'  the  wood; 
Fly  aioay  !    Fly  aioay  ! 

FAUST  (unhjckinij). 

She  does  not  dream  her  lover  listens  near : 
That  he  the  rattling  chain,  the  rustling  straw, 
can  hear. 


TNEllSKAfir 
OF  fHE 
UNIV&il«TY  (IF  tttMM 


MARGARET  REFUSES  TO  LE 


;AVE  THE  PRISON.— P/a^e  26. 


FAUST. 

Come  !    Come  !    The  night  ah'eady  vanisheth. 

MAEGAKET. 

My  mother  have  I  put  to  death ; 
1  've  drowned  the  baby  born  to  thee,  — 
Was  it  not  given  to  thee  and  me  ? 
Thee,  too  !  —  'Tis  thou  !    It  scarcely  true  doth 
seem  — 

Give  me  thy  hand  !    'Tis  not  a  dream  ! 

Thy  dear,  dear  hand  !  —  But,  ah,  'tis  wet ! 

Why,  wipe  it  off !    Methinks  that  yet 

There 's  blood  thereon. 

Ah,  God  !    What  hast  thou  done  ? 

Nay,  sheathe  thy  sword  at  last ! 

Do  not  affray  me  ! 

FAUST. 

0,  let  the  past  be  past ! 
Thy  words  will  slay  me  ! 

MARGAEET. 

No,  no  !    Thou  must  outlive  us. 

Now  I  '11  tell  thee  the  graves  to  give  us  ; 

Thou  must  begin  to-morrow 

The  work  of  sorrow  ! 

The  best  place  give  to  my  mother, 

Then  close  at  her  side  my  brother, 

And  me  a  little  awav, 

But  not  too  very  far,  I  pray ! 

And  here  on  my  right  breast,  my  baby  lay  ! 

Nobody  else  will  lie  beside  me  !  — 

Ah,  within  thine  arms  to  hide  me  !  — 

That  was  a  sweet  and  a  gracious  bliss. 


But  no  more,  no  more  can  I  attain  it ! 

I  would  force  myself  on  thee  and  constrain  it. 

FAUST. 

The  day  dawns.    Dearest !    Dearest ! 

MAEGAEET. 

Day  ?    Yes,  the  day  comes,  — the  last  day  breaks 

for  me  ! 
My  wedding-day  it  was  to  be  ! 
Tell  no  one  thou  hast  been  with  Margaret ! 
Woe  for  my  garland  !    The  chances 
Are  over  —  'tis  all  in  vain  ! 
We  shall  meet  once  again. 
But  not  at  the  dances  ! 

The  crowd  is  thronging,  no  word  is  spoken. 

The  square  below. 

And  the  streets,  overflow : 

The  death-bell  tolls,  the  wand  is  broken, 

I  am  seized  and  bound,  and  delivered  — 

Shoved  to  the  block  —  they  give  the  sign  ! 

Now  over  each  neck  has  quivered 

The  blade  that  is  quivering  over  mine. 

Dumb  lies  the  world  like  the  grave ! 

What  rises  up  from  the  threshold  here  ? 
He  !    He  !    Suffer  him  not ! 
What  does  he  want  in  this  holy  spot  ? 
He  seeks  me ! 

FAUST. 

Thou  shalt  live. 

MARGAEET. 

Judgment  of  God,  myself  to  thee  I  give ! 


311  AIR 'f-J  Al-rJB  T     TRET  UTS  F,       TO    I.IKAVK    TllK  VUl'dOlS' 


Of  tH£ 


